


Who The Hell Do You Think You Are

by dekusicepack



Series: short shippy things [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M, geoff is just vaugely mentioned haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 10:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3764554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dekusicepack/pseuds/dekusicepack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael wasn’t sure what the fuck was wrong with the guy in the dorm room next to him and why he was playing the same damn Mountain Goats song over and over again, and he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who The Hell Do You Think You Are

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Mountain Goats](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3470066) by [Flamo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flamo/pseuds/Flamo). 



> Prompt: "you live in the room next door to mine and you have been playing the mountain goats very loudly for the past five hours. are you. i mean. are you okay."  
> http://emeraldcreeper.tumblr.com/post/105057148454/robinalaska-melodramaticguitarsolo-important
> 
> inspired by that amazing raywood fic
> 
> i really wanted to write this ok

It’d been a quiet morning when he came back to his dorm room with a pizza box in one hand and the newest Persona in the other. Michael settled in to his game, already two chapters in when it started.

            At first he thought it was just that senior down the hall with all the tattoos, recording soundtracks with his friends for that Halo thing they did. Michael bobbed his head along for a few moments before the singing started, and he started laughing.

            “What asshole is blasting The Mountain Goats?” He shook his head and wrote it off to someone just having shitty music tastes. Not his problem if they’d never heard actual music, he thought. A little sad though. The thoughts left his mind soon enough after he looked at his game to find his partner passed out.

            “Fuckin’- dammit, Yosuke, you piece of actual America-obsessed shit-“

-

            It started to get annoying after a few hours.

            Michael had finished Persona 4, and was combing back through to make sure he didn’t miss any achievements. Every single time he would have enough combos to attack the boss he was trying to beat in three moves, that damned kid in the room next to him would start his stupid fucking Mountain Goats song again even louder then before. Michael would jump, still not expecting the music to be even louder. The little grey-haired avatar on his screen would miss the chance to attack, and Michael would respond with an ever-growing list of swears.

            “Fucking lightning moves, WHAT THE SHIT!” The redhead threw his controller onto the floor, fuming as it bounced away on the carpet. If whoever the shit it was didn’t stop playing that song, he was gonna pull a Shining on this guy and slam through his wall with a fucking axe.

            Michael got up from his couch to retrieve his beat-up controller and a pair of noise-canceling headphones. He’d deal with the noisy asshole’s bullshit later.

-

            Michael got a call from his friend Ray [ who lived down the opposite hall] about an hour later, complaining about the shitty folk music.

            “Dude, who the hell is playing that? I’ve been trying to do my horticulture paper for the last three hours and can’t concentrate at all!”  Ray whined over the Skype connection.

            “I’m literally gonna fuckin’ gut this guy in the next five minutes if he doesn’t stop,” Michael growled, slamming the buttons on his controller.

            “Be my guest, man. I’d do it, but with my luck it’d be a huge jock and I’d get pulped,” Ray replied.

            Michael got up, unplugging his headset and leaving his controller on his seat.

            “Be back in a minute with this asshole’s head.”

-

            Gavin really needed to finish this editing. He’d put on the worst music he could find, using a coding trick from a buddy to have it loop until he finished his work.

            That was a great idea, until Gavin couldn’t finish the project and the music wouldn’t stop playing . It’d been almost five hours now, and he was going absolutely mental.

            Gavin heard a tap on his door and looked up, interested.

            Whoever was knocking had a pattern, a sort of knock, knock-knocka-knockknock knock SLAM, Gavin noted mentally before he got up to answer it.

            The door opened to an extremely angry-looking redhead freckled guy in a beanie, t-shirt and shorts. Gavin let out a pleased noise, having his first visitor since freshman year started.

            “Hello! My name is Gavin, is the-“

            “Who the fuck do you think you are, blaring shitty music for five-“ He punctuated is words with a slam of his fist on the doorway. “Fucking- HOURS!”

            Gavin blinked in suprise, shoulders dropping. “Is it that loud?”

            The redhead tangled his fingers in his curls, yanking at them in anger. “Are you fucking deaf? Because your shitty music has been assaulting everyone’s ears for the last FIVE HOURS! If your music was a person, it’d be brutally mugging everybody in a shady fuckin’ alleyway!”

            Gavin stood dumbfounded in his doorway, green eyes meeting angry brown.

            “So, what’s your name?” he asked.

            The redhead looked murderous. “My name is Michael, and I’m gonna fuckin’ disembowel you if you don’t turn your music down.”

            Gavin skittered into his room, saving his project and unplugging his monitor speakers. The roar of folk music went down to a quiet tinny noise from the screen’s speakers, and Michael visibly relaxed.

            “There, was that so damn hard?”

            “Yes, Michael,” Gavin deadpanned, looking at the calmed teen.

            “Ugh, your accent butchers my name, I’m not Mi-cool for godssake. Here-“ Michael pulled out a half-smashed pen and some paper from his pocket and wrote something. “This’ll be your reminder.” He handed Gavin the paper.

            “’Keep your music down or I’ll slit your fucking throat.’” Gavin read aloud. “How nice, Michael!” He wrote a note back on the other half of the paper, ripping it off and handing it to Michael.

            “The shit is this?” Michael responded, reading the note.

            “My number, so you can call me if ‘my music’s too loud’.” Gavin raised an eyebrow at Michael, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a lopsided grin. “Better try some better flirting next time, Mi-cool.”

            The redhead flushed the color of his hair, working up to another rant when Gavin closed the door.

            “Holy SHIT!”

-

            Michael flopped on his couch, Ray still on the call.

            “Did you kill him, or some shit?”

            “Apparently I just hit on him.”

            “...Good enough.”


End file.
